


Ear warming

by KittyBits



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Clint Barton is a Disaster, Coming Out, Ficlet, First Meetings, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 04:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21368107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyBits/pseuds/KittyBits
Summary: It takes a few moments for Clint to realize that Natasha has stopped talking, but he is just so...Like...He thinks the man at the bar might be an angel.“I thought you were straight?”Straight-smaight.Clint wants to sit on that face.“Which one, the big blond?”“What, no? Wait, I said that out loud?”
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 13
Kudos: 178





	Ear warming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swing_set13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swing_set13/gifts).

> For Swingsetindecember, who is definitely someone in fandom who deserves to get fics written of her rarepair ships in gift

Clint is a sad human being.

Not sad emotionally.

Mostly – sometimes he gets sad but not often.

But like existentially.

One friend – Natasha.

A shitty apartment in Bed Stuy that he is pretty sure is owned by the Russian mob.

Only one nice pair of jeans – currently being worn. And they might look nice but they're tight and so not as comfortable as the track pants he usually wears.

He has a dog though, which is pretty nice.

Maybe he is a bad friend.

He's in a pretty nice bar, no beer stains or sticky floors, and the music isn't so loud that you can't keep up a conversation.

Natasha's treat because she had a shit day – her words – and she is regaling it to him and Clint isn't paying attention because he spotted something at the bar and lets out a small _oh_.

It takes a few moments for Clint to realize that Natasha has stopped talking, but he is just so...

Like...

He thinks the man at the bar might be an angel.

“I thought you were straight?”

Straight-smaight.

Clint wants to sit on that face.

“Which one, the big blond?”

“What, no? Wait, I said that out loud?” Natasha turns back from the bar and gives Clint her usual unimpressed look. It comes out whenever he does or says something she thinks is below him, and she has unbelievably high standards for him so it comes out several times every time they hang out.

“You did,” she says deadpan. “And I need to know three things right now.”

“Okay,” Clint says after a long, heavy moment. He tries to focus on her, but his eyes has strayed back to the divine creature at the bar, now drinking from a beer bottle – and to be that bottle! Clint would give up his left arm – or at least his favorite purple sweatshirt.

“You're thinking aloud again,” Natasha says and Clint looks at her, shamefaced.

“I don't know what's going on with me,” he confesses on a whine.

“I can see that,” Natasha says to that. “Three things.” She holds up a finger. “One: I thought you were straight.”

“So did I,” Clint says and casts a longing look at the man at the bar, his head now thrown back in laughter. “But...”

“You want to sit on his face, I got that. Number two,” a second finger is raised, “if it's not the blond, then who?”

“The brunet with the long hair,” Clint says. Or sighs really. Natasha looks back in a not at all discreet way, being a bad friend, but it allows Clint to look back at his future husband and see him blow loose strands of hair out of his face like the goddamn perfect specimen he is.

“The one with only one arm?”

“He doesn't have only-” but he does only have one arm. Huh. Clint had not noticed that before.

How did he not notice that before – he has perfect eye-sight.

They don't call him Hawkeye down at the archery range for nothing.

His shoulders are really broad though, they would look great with Clint's legs around them.

“Thinking aloud again, scatterbrain.”

“Sorry.”

Not really sorry.

Clint looks back at Natasha and gives her an apologetic smile. She holds her hand up and raises three fingers.

“Number three: what do you want, a fuck or a date?”

Clint looks back at Perfect Man® and sighs to himself.

“I wanna marry him and live together forever and never have to leave the bed, just snuggle right up to him and then fuck like bunnies.”

“Jesus, Clint,” Natasha says, and yeah. She didn't need to know that.

This dude just gives him all these feelings!

“Okay,” Natasha says and stands up. Clint nods.

Then she leaves him and walks right up to the bar and Clint realizes what she's doing and no.

Fuck, no.

She can't do that – he isn't ready!

Clint stumbles after her, hitting first the corner of the table with his hip – will definitely leave a bruise – then almost falling over the chair Natasha deserted and when he catches up with he she is just finishing introducing herself and him and his face feels like it's boiling and Perfect Man® is staring right at him with a raised eyebrow and an expectant look.

“Nice to meet you,” the big blond guy (oh, that was the one Nat meant), “I'm Steve, and this is Bucky.”

Perfect Man® - Bucky – raises his beer in greeting.

Fuck me.

Bucky looks at Clint in surprise. Clint's face might explode.

“Am I thinking out loud again?” he hisses at Natasha.

“Right, Bucky. So my good friend, Clint, here, who is presenting at his very best behavior,” Clint tries to elbow her to make her stop, but Natasha is a ninja and easily evades him. “Well, Clint used to think he was straight, but then he saw you and could not stop wondering if your ears were cold, so that he might warm them up with his-”

Clint's hand over Natasha's mouth stops that embarrassing comment from running it's course.

A long moment of silence passes between the four of them, Steve and Bucky staring at Clint who is staring at Bucky, face and ears burning and mouth dry as a dessert and still keeping a hand over Natasha's mouth.

“So,” Bucky says in a voice that makes Clint's insides squirmy. “You're not straight?”

“I want to have your babies,” Clint's mouth says – completely without his permission.

Natasha mumbles something behind his hand that he is pretty sure must be _Jesus, Clint_.

He agrees.

Jesus, him.

“Bye,” he says and turns on his heels, heading for the exit in a manner that has him almost colliding with three different people, one of which is seated, and actually connecting his shoulder with the door jamb when he tries to go outside.

He is several steps down the street when his name is called in a voice that makes angels weep and he swivels around and almost brains Bucky with his forehead, when the poor, perfect man tries to grab him by the shoulder and is surprised by the abrupt turn.

“My ears do get cold,” Bucky says with a grin, “And I'm sure your very nice thighs cold be helpful there, but maybe I could take you out before we start the actual baby-making?”

Clint's stomach has swooped to his knees.

“Marry me,” he says and Bucky's smile broadens.

“My mom says to never accept a proposal until at least the third date,” he says through his grin. “But give me your number, and we'll have that hurdle passed in no time.”


End file.
